505
by andygreyson
Summary: Sherlock is at Uni, and he has a dorm-mate he never asked for. Everything is annoying, and he's lonely, so he signs up to an online dating-service, where he meets a wonderful boy, and they fall in love. But things gets complacated as John gets to know Sherlock better, and Sherlock has to deal with depression. "Sherlock was having a much better time asleep."
1. Old yellow bricks

A/N:

S means Sherlock's Pov

J means John's

 **\--S--**

Okay, so he actually liked going to University. This was the first time in his life, when he felt like was taught something new. It was interesting and exciting. The other students were actually interested in school, and nobody seemed to give a fuck about him. No "freak" no "faggot" no "psycho". He was just a student, and nobody knew or cared about him. It was freaking amazing.

Well, it can't be all perfect, can it? That would totally ruin the pattern of life. What a bitch.

He was walking to his dorm. It was hard, all this socialisation. He never even went to summer camp or anything as a kid, he was the stay at home and listen to music type, but suddenly he was dragged out of there. He really wanted to go to this University. It had the best Chemistry education. On the ther hand? It was in the other side of the freaking country if not farther, and he had no choice but living in a dorm. His father said it was time to act like a man, and get some reputation. Yeah, like that's gonna happen.

As he walked up the boys building he saw other kids running around (at least in clothes this time), some other smoking weed around a window, he saw a kid kiss another, and a girl running past him, crying. What a mad world.

His room was on the 3rd floor.

When he got accepted, he asked for a private room. He was a rich kid; he was pretty sure he was going to get one, but guess what; he was not the richest. Some fat kid stole his freaking private room "reserved" for him. To hell with that.

So he ended up with a dorm mate, and he was the worst kind ever.

 **\--J--**

That stupid skinny boy entered the room without knocking again. He freaking told him to knock. Last time he even walked on him making out with a girl, and it was awkward as hell. Why did he had to end up with this rich annoying skinny-ass white boy? Even looking at him made him pissed. He probably had some money waved and they instantly accepted him in University.

But John? He had to work hard. Learning every night, while going to work part time in a fast food restaurant which he hated. Life is unfair.

-I told you to knock before you storm in.-he told him from his desk. He was learning for his next class. Human anatomy is so confusing. And that teacher always asked unfair questions, which made him confused, then look stupid. He was the only -not rich- in this -rich-ass- school, so looking like an idiot made him no good.

-Why would I knock? It's my own room. Would you knock at your own door before entering?- he replied as he jumped in his bed, opposite to John's.

-Smart-ass.-he replied and looked back at his book, trying to concentrate.

Sherlock grimanced, and put his headphones on.

 **\--S--**

 _-"Who wants to sleep in the city that never wakes up?_

 _Blinded by nostalgia,_

 _Who wants to sleep in the city that never wakes up?"_

Sherlock opened up his laptop and hit his Facebook up. He hated this site. He wanted to delete it so badly, but he couldn't. Teachers put up a lot of documents and always wrote the news to the University's group. He had no chance but to stay.

He looked up his messages.

 _"Hey honey, how's Uni going?"_ his Mother wrote him.

" _Good mom, I live with an asshole, but I lived with one before, so I will manage."_ he smiled at his message, then deleted it.

" _Good, Mom. Uni is really cool."_ he pressed enter.

He rolled down. No new messages whatsoever.

 **\--J--**

John was trying to concentrate on his book, but he soon realised he couldn't. It was Mary's fault. He was stupid; he was in madly in love with her, but of course he loved her more than she loved him. She freaking broke up over a text-message. What a heartless-freak! Everyone is cancer in here; he only had one friend, Mike who was a fat stupid kid, but he was actually kind and pretty hard-working.

He closed his book. Enough learning for one day. He had to get ready for this party near the forest. Campfire, weed, girls.

John will show them how cool he is, and he's going to kiss a girl infront of Mary, because fuck her, and he's going to make some friends, and actually have some fun.

He stood up and went to take a cold shower.

 **\--S--**

So bored.

He's playing some platformer now. Why can't he take more classes, and spend less time in this stupid place?

 **\--J--**

After a fresh shower, he chose his best clothes from the wardrobe. A nice shirt and a suit. Every kid in this stupid school wears a suit.

He put a lot of gel into his hair, trying to make it look normal. He could even imagine himself as a rich kid. He smiled. What a joke.

He used his desodore and was ready to go. He almost emptied the whole bottle. If his about to get some girl, he's going to smell like a Sex-God. He even sprayed some down -there-, just in case.

 **\--S--**

-Jesus.- Sherlock stood up coughing.- Can you please not drown me in your wanna be manliness?- he opened the window and took a deep breath.

-Shut up. It's not wanna be.- John took a final stare at a mirror an turned to Sherlock.

-You probably wanna go out somewhere though. Pretty sure I'm coming home with a company.- he smiled.

-You're so gross, you know that? Smelling like that they will die like flies.

-Watch me.- John said with a confident smile and headed out of the door.

-Idiot.-Sherlock said and shut the door after him.

 _A/N: Song: Arctic Monkeys - Old Yellow_


	2. Wiped out

-S-

Sherlock stood at the open window and lit a cigarette. His parents would be so mad at him now. Smoking in his dorm? It was totally against the rules.

When he looked down he could see a group of kids laughing with beers in their hands heading to the nearby forest, probably to the School-Starting party where John went to.

He kind of wanted to go, but then again, these parties were not made to make connections and reputation. It was to find a fuck-mate, and he was really not up to that.

He closed his window and now that John was away, he unplugged his headphones from the radio, and started to play his music loudly.

-J-

Right.

John was drinking a beer near the campfire. Some stupid rock song was on, and the others was dancing, but then again, he sat alone like some pathetic weirdo.

He saw Mary with another guy, and she was laughing innocently and looked super cute. She never looked cute with him. She always looked annoyed.

John drank into his beer again.

After a lot more drinking he felt much more confident. Of course they won't talk to him if he just sits here like a creep.

He stood up and started to dance. Some Green Day remix was on, and oh boy he lived for that.

-Hey.- someone said.

John looked up and saw a pretty boy in front of him. He was dancing, too.

-Hi.- he replied.

-I'm Alex. -he said.

-John.

-Cool party, right?

-Uhum, not bad. - he said. The music changed to Muse now.

-Oh, cool song.

-Ta.

John found this strange. Well, it was nice to make a friend, but he was into getting laid.

-You smell nice.- Alex noticed.

John gulped.

-Yeah, thanks.

This was getting kind of weird now. John wanted to get somewhere away, so he started to dance his way away, but this kid followed him. John dared not to say anything so they danced together again.

-You have pretty eyes- Alex said, and grabbed John's ass.

-Hey!- John yelled and move away.

-What? You don't like me?- he asked.

-I'm not freaking gay!- he yelled, his face red.

-No way, you're not. Everyone knows that the weird small kid in funny clothes is gay.- he said laughing.

John punched him in the face. Hard. His heart was pounding very fast, and he felt angry.

-Hey, mate!- others stood around Alex, and helped him up. The boy was bleeding from his noise.

-This guy is a fucking bully.- he said.

-Get out of here, asshole.- some other kid said to him. They all looked at him like he was a disease.

John grabbed his stuff and walked away. He could feel others looking at him, but he did not care.

-This party is lame anyway.-he said as he went away.

-S-

"Lost and afraid

Young and innocent but getting older

I don't wanna be alone

I don't wanna be alone"

...

 **Molly** _:'So how's school life?'_

 **Sherlock** : ' _Bad. The classes are fine, but everything else? Not good.'_

 **Molly** :' _That sucks. Any gf?'_

 **Sherlock** :' _Nah. Not really into that.'_

 **Molly** :' _Oh. Are you gay?'_

Sherlock stopped typing.

Molly was his only high school friend, and they kept in touch, although she was learning in the States right now. She wanted to be a specialist registrar. She might be cool at that.

 **Sherlock** :' _I'd rather not talk about it.'_

 **Molly** :' _It doesn't matter if you are._ '

 **Sherlock** :' _Whatever. Did you listened to the song I send?"_

 **Molly** :' _Yeah, but it's not my type of music. Sorry Sherlock.'_

 **Sherlock** :' _Doesn't matter.'_

 **Molly** _:'So, anyway, I have this friend here, Josh. He's totally gay, and he met this guy online, and they met in real life, and totally fell in love. This was a year ago. They're so cute.'_

 **Sherlock** :' _Okay, so?'_

 **Molly** _:'So if you're bored or whatever, you should check out this site. It's ... Check it out.'_

 **Sherlock** :' _Whatever_.'

Sherlock closed his laptop together. He was ready for another cigarette.

-J-

When John entered all he wanted to do was hide in his blanket and die.

Life is so uncool.

As he opened the door, he saw the other kid standing at the window, smoking. He got super angry.

-Do you really have to do that? Can't you just move your arse and smoke outside?- he yelled as he closed the door.

-Oh, I thought you was bringing home some company.- Sherlock noticed avoiding the question.

-Shut up or I will beat you up!- he yelled.

-Like that other kid?- Sherlock asked innocently.

-What? How?- how the hell did he knew what happened? Was he a stalker now?

-You hand..-Sherlock pointed at them- Bloody.

-Oh...

John went into the bathroom, and washed his hands and face. This is not how he imagined this day..

When he entered the bedroom, Sherlock was back in his bed, with his headphones on. What a weirdo.

John took of his shirt, and got in bed as well

A/n: Song: Wiped out by the Neighborhood.


	3. We might be dead by tomorrow

-S-

While he was in class, he wondered about what Molly said. About that site, and about being gay.

He tried to imagine himself with a boy.

…

Awkward.

But that's just who he is. Socially awkward.

He looked at the boys in the classroom. He found some of them cute, but still, nothing more. Damn, he was good looking himself. At high school some girls were over him. Some like Molly.

But he was smarter than that. He pretended to be cold hearted, just so they would leave him be. But being alone, overtime became harder.

He liked being alone, but hated being lonely, and lately he was lost and confused. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to do chemistry anymore, his Father wanted him to join the family business, just as Mycroft did, though his older brother already surpassed the old man. What a shame, he was not like Mycroft. His sibling was a natural liar; always got what he wanted, and girls wanted him all the time.

Well, that's depressing. If Mycroft is capable to do -friends- he should be able to do so. It might be a cool experiment.

* * *

-j-

John had to practise CPR in class. It was totally uncool, but was necessary. If he's planning to be a doctor, he can't just not know how to do it.

His mother died because of cancer, and when he and his sister were kids, they did a lot of testing on them, to check if the were alright. Guess what; they were not.

He stared as the other kids did CPR. They joked and one of them pretended to make out with the doll, they were performing the action on. A boy named Mark grabbed the doll's imaginary dick and stared at John laughing.

John felt angry. He. Was. Not. Gay.

-Watson!- the teacher called. John gulped and went to the doll.

He kneeled down and started to do CPR. He felt the others watching him. He ignored it.

As he pumped oxygen into the doll, he stared at it's emotionless face. This was kinda like he was kissing it.

He missed kissing someone badly. He missed feeling loved, and share his own feelings with somebody. He imagined being in a relationship and his heart ached.

-Watson, you're doing it bad. You're more likely drowning it with your mouth, rather than helping it.- the teacher said.

John blushed and stood up as others were laughing at him.

* * *

-S-

Sherlock passed his test again.

He wrote the best one in class although he learned nothing for it.

His father would be proud of him.

Lame.

…

As he was heading for his next class, he put up his headphone, so he could close out all the other annoying sound he could.

"Give me all your love now  
'Cause for all we know  
We might be dead by tomorrow"

Before class he decided to have a cigarette. He went to his usually spot, the back of the school, which lead to the trash bins, and he lit his smoke.

"I can't go on wasting my time  
Adding scars to my heart  
'Cause all I hear is  
"I'm not ready now"

He saw some kids walking past him. He recognised one, Mark, one of the bullies in this school. He turned down his music so he could eardrop a little.

-Have you seen that little freak?- Mark asked his other friend walking behind.

-God, he's such a faggot.- he laughed.

\- We should show him that this school won't tolerate gays. I did not pay to see some freak fapping at practise dolls. God, Watson is a nightmare.

\- Totally, man. But you have to admit, back at the party when Watson beat up that faggot was just too hilarious. Man so ironic.-one of them answered.

-It's almost like genocide and some shit.

-Oh damn that would be a cool movie idea.

They were too far now to understand.

Sherlock stared at ahead of him.

Well, his dorm mate is totally in trouble now.

Is John really gay?

He didn't seem like the type.

Anyway, it's not his problem, is it?

He put back on his headphone and walked back to his class.

* * *

-J-

Unbelievable. But he learned so hard.

He failed his test again.

No way!

Even Mike passed.

He stared ahead, super angry.

…..

-Maybe we could built a time machine.- Mike wondered. They were having lunch outside, near the football field.

-Yeah, sure. What would be the first thing you would change?- John asked.

\- I would choose a different school - he laughed. - There's one in the States, super cool, easy to get in. I should've gone there. What about you?

-Dunno. There's a lot of things actually. But I think i would rather just travel around, you know.

-You're quite the adventurous type, aren't you?

-Hehe, I guess you're right.

-So you know.. I heard some rumours about you…

\- Leave it Mike.- John said.

-Fine, fine, I'm just saying that it would be totally fine by me, you know, I even know a cool site, and..-

-MIKE. I'M NOT GAY.- he answered and stood up.

Some walking would do good to him anyway.

…..

The fresh air indeed made him feel better .

When he felt lost or confused, he usually took a long walk in the forest. There was this cute pathway, leading to picnic area and back. It was pretty.

He sat down at a bench nearby and started to think.

He was hurt.

It's not like he has any problems with gays. He's cool with them. But he's totally not gay. Why would they even think that? Does he look like a homosexual? And how does one look like at all?

Yeah, he couldn't afford those expensive suits, so he was usually in his jumpers, expect when he actually tried to look cool. His hair was overgrown and messy.

He kinda looked alright though.

Suddenly he heard someone from behind him and he turned instantly.

-Hey, Watson!

* * *

-S-

Sherlock is so unlucky.

Why why why?

Why did the sky cursed him? Did he did something bad?

Why does he have to be the one...,?

He was walking peacefully at his usually spot, collecting some moss for his new experiment, when he heard a strange noise, and he noticed these kids beating up another.

Who it might be?

Yeah, right.

John, his dorm-mate.

Why can't he have a normal peaceful walk like any other human being in this goddamn-world?

He had to think fast. Should he-like try to help?

He took some box classes back at high school, but he wouldn't stand a chance 1 against 3.

Maybe he should like walk away, it's not his business whatsoever.

…..

Oh well, his mom always told him that he's living in his comfort-zone and all that. He's a teen, he's supposed to have mad ideas, right?

Yeah, pretty sure that's how you're supposed to act, in a situation like this…

-Hey assholes. Do you guys enjoy beating up small kids? So manly.- he yelled.

* * *

…..

-J-

-You're such an idiot.- John said as he put an icepack under his eyes.

-I'm actually proven to be quite a genius.- Sherlock said weakly.

This stupid boy happened to be at the forest, and was mad or brave enough to interfere.

-You should've just let them be.- John said.

-Yeah, but I kind of experienced some type of mood swing bravery. I'm told those are deadly.

They were back at their room, John sitting on his bedside, while Sherlock laid at the sofa with a bleeding nose and a black eye.

-Why did you helped me? Seriously. I don't even like you.

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders.

-I don't know. I was full of adrenaline, I guess.

-You probably have a death wish or something, storming in like that.- John said.

-Yeah, hehe, maybe.-Sherlock chuckled.

-Well, next time… Don't interfere.

Sherlock looked a little serious, but then nodded.

-Yeah.. Whatever.

-Really though. I don't need any protection.

-I wasn't there to protect you, and failed anyway.

-Well I wasn't expecting for you to win.- John chuckled.-But anyway. Thanks.

-Yeah, sure.

They've spent the rest of the afternoon in quiet, until they had an argument about something so tiny, they wouldn't even remember it the next day.

* * *

A/N: Soko- We might be dead by tomorrow.


	4. Choking on flowers

-j-

"Good Morning, how can I help you?" He asked with a smile forced so badly it hurt.

"Just gimme a cheeseburger"

"Yes, Sir."

God, he hated to work here so much. He really wanted to work as an assisstant of some kind of, in a hospital or clinic, but the work hours was impossible next to Uni, so he had to choose a job with flexible time-schedule. So he applied to this fast-food restaurant, working on weekends, since his friends back at high school told him, that the boys always work in the kitchen, making the sandwiches and all that, so it would be fine, nobody would see him nor recognise him.

That's when life showed it's middle finger up.

He was assigned as a cashier. He begged them not to, that he was no good with people or money, and that he just wanted to flip those burgers, but still, the answer was no.

He had no choice but agree. He needed the money badly, and soon.When his Mother died, they were left with their Father with very little to begin with, and then with even less. He started to work at age 14, to help themself, especially his little sister. He hated to see her grew up without the things she deserved.

But now that he moved out, he nedded the money the get food,tickets, books, everything for himself.

"What takes you so long? Are you retarded or what? GIVE.ME.THE.SANDWICH."

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir." He answered, as he handed over the food, and then took a new order.

-S-

"Honey, eat the vegetables too." His mother told him.

"How comes that Mycroft doesn't have to eat those?" He snapped.

'Honey, Mycroft is a grown man, and he always eats the vegetables anyway."

"I'm just as much of a man as he is."

"Oh, honey, I'm sure of it. Still, eat those, please?"

God. He hated weekends so badly. Every once a while, he was forced to stay home at the weekend, and spend some family time or what, and he had to act like some goldenboy, urgh, it was just terrible.

"Yeah, Sherly, eat those." Mycroft chuckled.

"Shut up!" He yelled and throw a broccoli at him.

"Sherlock Holmes! No food throwing at my table!" His mother stood up. "You will go up to you room, and you can't come down, until you apologise to you brother."

"Fine, whatever"

Sherlock stood up and walked the stairs slowly. Living in dorm was bad, but living at home was worse. He can't wait to go back from one Hell to another.

Once in his room, he locked the door behind him, and jumped in his bed. God, he missed this bed. Soooooo much better then the one in his dorm. Soft, and nice, and cozy.

He opened up his laptop and checked the messages.

"So, what are you doing this weekend?"M

"Dying over and over again. SH"

"How so? M"

"At home with family. Can't even smoke."

" XD. Tell your Mother I say Hi, and that I miss her. M"

"Rather not. She would go on about how much I mistreat you.SH"

"Are you now? Xd M"

"Nah, I think it's all good. SH"

"Same, no worries. So what about you check out that dating site, and I watch that movie you talked about?M"

"You mean Natural Born Killers? SH"

"Yeah, right. M"

"... Why do you want me to check that out? SH"

"Because it's fun. M"

"Fine. Only because I wanna talk about that movie badly. SH"

"Deal."

"Send me the address. SH"

He closed his room with a key, turned on the music, and clicked.

Inside your house

We've got a lot to talk about

Decorations that we found

Instead we look around

Instead we look around...

J-

He put his heavy bag on his bed, and jumped in. God, such a terrible day. Well, at least the room is empty. His dorm-mate was playing little prince somewhere, eating out of golden plates whatsoever, and for now, he was just glad to be alone.

He sat up, and the smell of fry hit him hard. God, he was stinking.

He went to the to bathroom, and got undressed. As he was about to enter the shower, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and stopped to stare.

He looked nothing like himself anymore. Tired eyes, messy overgrown hair. He might've added some plus pounds too. He was just... So imperfect. Imperfect in this world, where everyone looked beautiful and rich.

What is he even doing here?

He sighed, and stepped in the shower.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, with only a towel on his waist, he heard knocking on the door.

"Hi."Mike stormed in as he opened the door.

"Wha- What are you doing here?" He asked

"You won't belive. I just had the craziest fan idea about Game of Thrones." Then he sat on his bed and went on, for about an hour. While he talked, John got dressed, and was sitting at his table.

"Give me your laptop."

John handed him his old notebook.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

" I'm going to bookmark the source page. Be sure to check it ou,it's crazy!" He said as he stood up.

"Yeah, sure mate."

"Alrighty then." He said. "Take care."

"Ta." he said as he sat back at the table and Mike closed the door behind himself.

John opened up his bookmarks, but actually he found no GOT discussion page whatsoever, instead he found a strangly named website recently added, which he never heard of before.

He clicked.

-S-

"Hmm."

You must be login to see the contents. Don't have an account? Join here!

Since he promised Molly he would check it out, he actually had to register to this site. God, he's so messed up. Why is he even doing this to himself?

He clicked register.

Username:

ThatViolin

Password

Email

(He obviously used a different one than usually)

Gender

Male

Age

19

Now it's time to set your preferencies.

Do you like

Skinny/big boys?

Tall/small?

Blonde/brown/black haired?

Long term /one night stand?

Register!

He clicked.

-J-

No way, he's going to register. What if, like, someone figures it out? He's not gay; he just wants a quick peek, alright? Nothing more. To see what kind of people are up on this and all that. But to register? He really shouldn't. But like... Temptation and all. He clicked register.

username:

TheSmellOfTea

Password:

Email:

(He only har one email address and was lazy to make a new one so he just used that.)

Gender:

Male

Age

21

Now it's time to set your preferencies.

Do you like

Skinny/big boys?

Tall/small?

Blonde/brown/black haired?

Long term /one night stand?

Register!

These were all random variables, he wasn't actually looking for a boyfriend.


	5. Betlehem

-S-

Sherlock was back at his dorm, mixing chemicals together. It was forbidden to practise chemistry at his room,but he was far too bored to do anything else.

As he was mixing those in a glass, John entered the room. The sound of the door startled Sherlock from his dozed state, and his hand shaked, which resulted him pouring too much bleach into the chemical. The solution started to boil.

"Shit." He said and throw the glass at the bathroom wall, which exploded.

"What the hell?!" John yelled.

"Yeah, why the hell did you storm in like that?!" Sherlock yelled back.

"What are you talking about?! Are you dumb or what?"

"Me? Look at yourself! I'm far from dumb." Sherlock said and started to collect the pieces.

"Freaking unbeliveable. Why are you so annoying?!" John yelled.

"Shut up!" Sherlock yelled back, and throw his pillow at John. John throw it back strongly. They stared at eachother, until John turned and put his bag down which was on his shoulder. Sherlock stared quietly, not sure what to do, so he throw the broken pieces in the bin, and went back to his desk. He looked at the failed experiment. He grabbed his notebook from the table, in which he always wrote down his observations of his current work. On the last page he wrote "FAILED" and "REPEAT".

Great. He have to go back to the forest for some more moss.

He was pissed.

He grabbed his headphones and his laptop, got in bed and hid under his blanket. He was tired of seeing that stupid face of John's.

As he turned his laptop on, he got a notification of a new email. He clicked, and saw that it was from that website.

REGISTRATION COMPLETE. YOU CAN NOW LOG IN!

As he clicked again, he could hear John talking to someone. Although the headphone was on him, he wasn't listening to anything.

"Yeah, sure.." he heard John talk, probably on the phone.

"Ta, anything to get away from here." He said.

"Don't ask about it... I'll tell you there."

He could hear John walking around, probably getting dressed, and finally, leave.

Sherlock got up from under the covers, and stared around aimlessly.

After a few moments he said

"Whatever."

And lit a cigarette.

-J-

John was staring at his beer,playing around.

"So, what's up?" Mike asked as he sat down with a new beer he went to get.

"Nothing really. I guess I over reacted something."

"Tell me." Mike said as a teenager girl.

John drank into his beer. They were at a local pub, mostly for students, but it was rather empty on a thursday afternoon.

"You know, my dorm mate right?"

"Oh, yeah, that guy.. What's his name again?"

"Sherlock."

Mike chuckled.

"What kind of name is that, even? It sounds like some stupid character from a spanish tv show." He chuckeled.

"Yeah. It's strange. So this guy, he's totally into Chemistry, right? I just got home, and he was doing some stuff at his table, some experiement, when something went wrong, he throw it, and it freaking exploded!" John said.

"No way John, tell me you're joking." Mike said.

"Wish I was." he sighed.

"So what did you do about it?"

"What do you mean? I told him it was stupid, then you called me."

"Ohh man, you have to show him, who's the real male around. " Mike said.

"Wha- Mike what hell are you talking about?"

"Trust me, I know the geeky kind of type. You have to show him that you're the boss, and that he can't mess around with you."

"I'm not sure I understand." John answered.

"Look, you can't ..- Mike was interrupted by a boy, who grabbed him from behind and playfully got him up.

"Jesus, Ross." Mike chuckled.

Ross was a guy in the same class as John, but they never really talked. He was tall, curly blonde with green eyes. He was pretty handsome.

"Okay, so John, I hope you don't mind, I invited Ross too." Mike said.

John forced a smile, and nodded.

'Sure. Hi, I'm John." He said and they shaked hands.

"Ross." He answered.

"So, how do you know eachother?" John asked as he drank into his beer. Ross sat down next to John, who was in the middle now. Ross smelled like mint, John noticed.

"Actually Ross and I met in high school." Mike said.

"Yeah, back in North Yorkshire. He and I was in the same class." Ross said smiling. "So, there was this fat kid one day totally getting beaten up." He chuckled. John found it cute. "So I went there, you know, told them to stop. My brother was kind of a bully too, so they knew who I was. They thought I wanted to beat him up and left us. So after his "rescue" he told me he would've totally beat them up alone and all that. Man, this guy, he's freaking crazy." He said smile so wild.

"Hehe, nice" John chuckled.

"Hey, let's get something stronger than a beer, right?" Ross asked.

"Yeah,let's get druuuuuuuunkkkkk!" Mike singed.

"I'm not sure." John said.

"Come on, don't be so boring. We're gonna have fun! " Ross said brightly.

John nodded, smiling back.

-S-

God, he was so scared of dick picks.

Please no pic, please no pic.

He was at the main page of the site. It was nothing special to be honest. It was like facebook,but dumber. There was a message board, where you could write out stuff, and everyone would see, not just your friends on the site.

"Looking for a cute boy ;)"

"Let's just send pics"

"Hi. Im Harry and I'm really insacure. I'm looking for a bf :) "

Some of them says.

So far, he was not a fan of this.

He clicked on his profile. It was really empty, so he wrote an introduction.

"Hi, I'm ThatViolin, 19, student. I'm just here because I promised someone, not really looking. Please don't send me pics. I like to play my violin and listen to music. I also like tea. I'm kind of awkward. That's all."

He was satisfied with the outcome. Now he was looking through the message board, checking out profiles.

Some of them was cute, really. But some of them was hairy and big and scary. Yes, he saw dick pics, but it was impossible to not see them. He just ignored those profiles.

He saw younger boys than him registered,looking for "a man". He found that crazy.

He even found some looking for "my new daddy." And all that.

It was interesting for sure. At least it was fun. He already know he wasn't going to take this seriously, so he just liked random stuff that he found funny, posted a picture of a dog hugging a cat, cuz why not.

After he spend 30 minutes with messing around, he decided to write something on the message board. He was thinking about what to write for a while, then came up with this:

Looking for friends. No dick pic please. Literally, just friends. Thanks.

With a satisfied smile, he closed his laptop, and put on some music.

"And though I'm heaven sent

I can do as I want and you don't have the right to choose"


	6. Whatever people say I am

A/N: Hi, welcome to a John special :)

-J-

No way. Could this be.. His lucky day?

Mark's car was otside the pub. Mark was one off the school bullies that he hated, and now his expensive BMW was infront of him.

"Hey... Johhhhhhhn... What're you dooingg??" Mike asked. Probably Mike. Not so sure.

John smiled and pulled down his pants, and pissed on the car.

"Whaaaaaat? No wayyyy" mike chuckled.

"Dude... You fucking rock!!" Ross said.

John chuckled.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" he heard Mark yell from a distance.

"Dude, run!!" Ross yelled.

He pulled up his pants and started to run next to Mike. Mark was running behind them with a baseball bat in his hand.

"Shit shit shit" Ross jumped.

"Fucking gays! I'll kill ya!!" Mark yelled.

John tried to concentrate on running, since he barely saw anything clear, everything was a blurr, but he followed the others, hoping not to fall.

"Shit!" Mark yelled as they left him down.

They kept running for a while then stopped in a dark corner.

They were gasping for air.

"Wha...Dude... That was... Fucking crazy!" Ross said.

"He deserved it... Probably.. gonna kick my ass later though." He chuckeled.

"No sweat... I'll protect you.." Mike said.

Ross and John stared at him and started laughing at a chubby boy.

"What?" He demanded

"Nothin'." Ross said holding back tears.

'God, I'm so dead." John laughed.

"So what now?" Mike asked.

"Let's goooo back. To the dormmm." John said.

"I don't live there." Ross said.

"Whaat?" John asked back.

"I own a flat." Ross answered.

"Damn, cool."

"Wanna come over?" Ross asked. Mike puked in the background.

"Sure" he answered.

"Mike?" Ross asked looking back at the puking boy.

"Nahh.. I better go.. back." He said.

"Okay.. See ya later" Ross said. John waved, and they went to Ross's place.

"I never thoughhht you would do something crazzy like that." Ross said. He looked like an excited little boy jumping up and down.

"I told you, I shouldn't have drank." He gasped.

"I like you better than this." Ross said.

"Hmm."

Ross lived at a small street, where everything looked the same. Or maybe just for John. He couldn't even remember what happened before drinking.

Ross was messing with the keys, he couldn't put it in the hole.

"You're bad with holes.." John joked..

"Noooot all the time." He replied.

Finally the boy managed to open the door. John wanted to look around but he was really dizzy, and just sat down at a sofa in the living room.

"I'll get some.. buckets and.. a blanket." He said looking pale.

John nodded, feeling really dizzy.

He felt his phone ringing in his pocket. He got it out, and saw that he got a new email. It was a registration confirmation from that site. He tapped on the link.

As the site open he was lead to some kind of message board. He really was messing up the letters. Reading made him feel worse, but he continued. There was one post that looked different that the others. Someone called ThatViolin. He liked the post and commented "PM me :) " and hit sent. At the same moment Ross returned with some blankets and sat next to John. He put his phone away..

"So you know..." Ross said. "I heard you're gay and stuff."

"Ross.." John answered." Whatever people say, I am.. I am not."

Ross stared at him then nodded.

"Good. " He replied. "That makes things easier." He said.

John nodded, then took the bucket from Ross' hand, and throw up.

"So you got a... A thing.. a.. girlfriend?" Ross asked looking dizzy. He took the bucket from John and puked in it.

"Nah.. Had one... She broke up over a fucckking text message."

"No wayyy dude."

" Yeah. It still hurts.." John suddenly became really emotional and tears fell down on his cheeks. He really shouldn't have drunk.

"Awww. Don't worry.. I-I will make you better." Ross said looking pale again.

"How?"

"I'll make you hot choclate." He said looking all serious.

John chuckled.

"Thanks, but.. don't. I would throw it up on your carpet anyway."

Ross pointed at John.

"You're so smart. Right. Maybe in the morning." He said.

"Uhum.. Maybe."

"Let's go sleep." Ross said.

John nodded.

"You're fine on the sofa?"

"Ta" he replied.

They said their goodbyes, and Ross dissapeared somewhere.

John took down his shirt and trousers, leaving on only his boxer.

He hid under the warm blankets, and quietly, fell asleep.

The next morning he felt super guilty, not sure why. Could be the car, could be anything else. He had a horrible headache. He could hear Ross snoring, and he didn't want to woke him up, so he searched for a paper and a pen, wrote a "thank you" note, left it in the kitchen, then left. He was not sure where he is actually, but using his mobile GPS he got home safely.

When he arrived home he smelled like piss and sweat.

His dorm-mate took his headphones down when he entered.

"You all right?" He asked.

"What do you think?" John asked back.

"I think you shouldn't drunk anymore."

"What?"

"You smell like alcohol, and look like shit."

"Amazing observations." John rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." Sherlock answered and took back the headphones.

John took a bath, and slept like an angel for the rest of the day.


	7. Favourite Worst Nightmare

-S-

"Where is it?" John asked himself desperetly. This little "show" was going on for almost an hour now, and Sherlock found it rather amusing. John would check a drawer, close it back, then after a while he would check it again, and -guess what- close it back again.

Sherlock was smiling at the little scene from his desk. He decided to wear some black skinny jeans and a white shirt. John was in a blue jean and in a brown jumper.

When Watson opened the drawer for like the millionth time, Sherlock couldn't help but interfere.

"Under the book, on the table."he said.

John slowly stood up from the ground, and turned to see Sherlock.

" What?"

"Your ID. It's under the book, on the table. That's what your looking for, aren't you?"

"I am. But It's not there. I know for sure, I never put it there."

"Okay. Why don't you open that drawer, and look again?" Sherlock asked playfully.

"It's supposed to be in the drawer." John said as he stood up. He walked to the desk, lifted the book, and raised his ID up.

"What? Why is it here?"

"You left it there last night. I told you, it's there." Sherlock simply said.

"How did you know that?"

"I like to observe things, not just seeing them."

"What's the difference?" John asked confused.

"You can look at things and still not see them. It's hard to explain. You see, it is my business to know what other people do not know."

"I don't understand a thing." John said.

"Okay. So let me put it simple. We live in here since September, which is like 4 month now. Let me ask you. What do you know about me?" Sherlock asked, looking interested.

"Well, I don't know." John replied. "You like listening to music. You like Chemistry, and you have some money."

"Amazing skills. Really, I'm impressed. I thought you haven't noticed these."

John got angry.

"Okay, look, I'm not sure about you, but..-

"Now let me tell you what I know about you." Sherlock interrupted. " I know you came from Chelmsford. I know you have a brother, Harry, and I know you're straightfoward and true. I know that before you come through the front door, you always stop to take a deep breath, and then enter. I know that you have trouble falling asleep, and I know that you had some bad experience, which made you want to become a Doctor. I know that you've been raised harsly; it's easy to tell even from your posture. Straight back, chins up,just like a soldier. So tell me, do you see, or do you observe?" Sherlock asked finally.

John stood there looking pale, in silent. Sherlock became worried. He usually liked to keep his silence, but he kind of liked to show off. Maybe he went too far.

"Okay; now let me get this out of my mind" John said. Sherlock was still not sure if he was angry or not. "I think you're really freaking weird and creepy."

"Guess I am."

"But on the second hand; this was kind of cool."

"Cool?"

"Yeah. Like, how do you even know these? Did you like Google me up or what? No, that still wouldn't explain everything. I don't know how you did that, but it was definetly cool."

Sherlock was suprised.

"Well, nobody ever told me it was cool."

"I said it was creepy, weird, and then cool."

"Does the order matter?"

"It definetly does."

"Oh well..."

"But you got it wrong."

"Did I?"

"Yeah. I have a sister, not a brother."

"Oh, I saw it once on Facebook, I thought it said Harry Watson."

"It does. It's her nickname. She's kind of a tomboy I guess."

"Oh, okay."

"Yeah.."

After that, they didn't really talked. Sherlock felt strange for talking this much. When he was a kid he kind of realised it was better to keep his voice to himself. He had trouble mixing up good and bad things sometimes, so it was a lot easier to just say and do nothing.

But know, he felt like he went a little too far. He really hoped John wouln't make a big thing out of this, or talk to him more. He wanted to keep his distance.

-J-

That was fucking strange.

Like, what?

John watched The Mentalist when he was a child, it was an OK show, but now he kinda lives in it?

This was just really weird. Cool, right, but preeeety weird.

How are you supposed to react to something like that? Like, his roommate is either a scammer, or some Mentalist/magician. None of them would be alright. It woukd have advantages, sure, and if he told him the truth, it would be somewhat cool too. Pretty amazing. But things like this does not exist in the real world. He just googled him up. He even told him that he knew about Harry from Facebook.

John prefered to ignore whatever happened back there, and decided to watch his movie for the rest of the night. He wanted to get into the Christmas mood. It was almost time, and he still felt like he September just began. He put up his favourite movie, Love Actually. His Mom loved the movie so much, they've actually watched it every Christmas night together. Him, Harry, and his Mom. Everything was so perfect back then. He really missed that.

-S-

He got in his bed, laying on the wall, with the laptop on his chest. He could see John if he looked up. He choose this pose to observe him. The blond boy was being really passive, and was watching a stupid movie, but Sherlock could tell that he was not really concentrating so there was no point.

After a while he became bored, so put his headphones on, rolled over, and hid under the blankets.

Oh well,he was a cozy boy.

"Sleep don't visit, so I choke on sun

And the days blur into one

And the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done"

He decided to check up on The Site. It's been a while, and he kinda forgat about it. His Mother was nagging him about the upcoming Christmas Dinner and about presents, he was just really busy.

He was welcomed with a new comment on his stupid post

"PM me :)"

Sherlock became super curious, so he clicked on the profile.

It belonged to TheSmellOfTea. He was a new user, with very little info about him, which annoyed Sherlock. Since he was bored anyway, he decided to play along.

He wrote the user a private message.

"Okay. Done." And he sent enter. He just wanted to mess around to be honest. After a whole 5 minute without an answer he got bored again, so decided to watch some True Crime youtube videos.


	8. Clint Eastwood

-J-

John was laying in his bed, messing with his phone. He was bored; it was late already, but he was not tired yet. Sherlock was in his bed, opposite to John's, typing on his laptop.

It's been quite a while since they saw eachother; Holmes was probably with his family during Christmas, while John worked. Working during the festives meant double payment, which he really needed. He was ready to buy some new clothes, and get his hair done.

So on this Saturday, his dorm mate showed up again. He didn't even say "Hi". He just came in the door, throw his stuff on the floor and jumped in bed. They haven't talked since. It's not like John wanted to talk to him. He had nothing so say.

He looked at the boy one more time, to make sure he was not watching, then went up to The Site.It's been a while since he went up. Probably because he had no business there, but mostly because he had no time.

He signed in, and the familiar blue page welcomed him.

"1 new message"

He clicked on it.

It was ThatViolin. He had hard time remembering, but he was probably the guy who wrote a post, and being drunk and messed up, John answered to. Awkward.

Okay. Done." He wrote.

John checked his profile. He had literally no info about him. But he shouldn't be judging. He had less info himself.

He decided to write him something cool. Like, play it off smooth and nice.

"So, what's up, Mr. Mystery?"

He can't send this. Oh god, he sounds like a pedophile. He bit on his lip. Should he? He's so gonna regret it.

He clicked send.

Oh god.

He hates himself so much.

Why did he sent it?

Maybe he can delete his account.

"God, what an idiot." He thought.

After like a minute, he actually got a reply.

John's heart skipped a beat.

"Me? You're a bigger mystery than I am." ThatViolin wrote.

John quickly responded.

"Hehe, I guess. Sooooo... What about you tell me one thing about yourself, and then I do the same."

"Could work." ThatViolin responded."There is not much to tell though."

"Anything will do." John wrote. "Like, how did you end up on this site?"

"I'm bored. What about you?"

"I'm kind of bored too." John replied. "I should probably learn for school, instead of this.."

"Well, we're the same age. Shouldn't you learn as well?"

"Not really." ThatViolin replied.

"How comes?"

"Sometimes I feel like I know everything."

"That's impossible :D "

"I know. But sometimes I feel like it. And it drives me mad."

"I can't really relate. I have to learn day to day, and I'm just so tired..." John wrote.

"So, what you're plans for the future?" John asked.

"I'm not sure. I thought about travelling for a while.. To see the world. To be independent for once... Or maybe try to learn something different, make a change. But first, I will have to get my degree. What about you?" ThatViolin asked.

" I have no plans... Well, I guess I will work... I'm not even sure if I'm able to get my degree. I feel stupid sometimes, like, my brain is just so overloaded. I work part-time, and I have no time for anything. I can't sleep well... Sometimes I feel like dying rather than this..." John wrote.

"I always feel like dying..." ThatViolin replied.

"Why?"

"I'm just bad at "living". I don't really want to talk about it."

"Yeah, that's fine... Well, this became really depressed, huh?" John asked.

"Does it bother you? Did I make you feel sad?"

"No. Not at all. This is a nice conversation." John wrote.

"Well yeah, I thought I would get some D-Pic by now."

"Oh, I thought the same xd. Guess we're lucky."

"Guess we are"

Time was running really late, so John decided it's time to go to sleep.

"I have to go now."

"Oh okay..."

"Talk later?"

"Sure :) "

"Cool. Bye then :)"

John locked his phone, and went to sleep.

-S-

Sherlock stood up. He couldn 't sleep now. He felt so alive. More like, ecxited? He got up quietly, not to wake John. He opened the window carefully and lit a cigarette. He looked out. The streets were empty and cold. Winter was colder and colder, and he missed warmness. He was really sentimental these days. Guess that's another dissapointment for the family. Plus one for the list of things they can hate him for.

He had nightmares. It's been going on for a while. He either had no dream, or a nightmare. Nothing in between. He couldn't perfectly remember these dreams well, but one thing was always the same: he was always running down a corridor and something was always chasing him.

He inhaled deeply.

He spent the night leaning against the window, smoking, and listening to Gorillaz on his headphones.

When John woke up in the morning, he said nothing, just stared at him. He pretended not to see.

He was in the lab, looking through the microscope. School was already over for the day, and he decided to do some experiments, in safe conditions this time. He carefully added one drop of water in his solution, and waited.

His eyes wandered off the window.

"Hi Sherlock. " Sherlock looked up, and saw a boy sitting down next to him.

"Do I know you?"

"Oh wow man.. That hurts... You've been sitting next to me on chemistry for half a year now." He said.

"Oh, okay."

"I'm Danny. So anyway, what's up?"

"What's up? Nothing's up. Or maybe everything. A whole universe."

"Oh, right. Well, I meant, is everything okay?"

"I guess."

"So I wanted to ask you.. Like you know.. Could you lend some money?" He whispered.

"And why should I do that?"

" I'm buying morphine. You can have half." He whispered.

"Why do you think I want it anyway?"

"C'mon, look at you."

"What?"

"You look like a druggie."

"Hmpf" Sherlock stood up. "I'll pass."

"What, too good to get high?"

He ignored him and left.

"Fucking gay." He heard him say as he stepped out of the door. He stopped for a second. Should he respond?

No.

He simply walked out.

He waited for him to write first. He was nervous. Like, it was something that he actually looked forward to, talking to someone, without being judged. He was just so afraid to mess it up. To say something bad.

He hit refresh like every minute, but it did no good.

Later when John arrived, he barely noticed, his eyes were fixed on the laptop.

He couldn't belive his eyes when he saw the notification.

"1 New message."

He clicked.

"Hi, Mr. Mystery"

"You really gonna call me that?"he asked.

"Well, what's your name then?

"I guess you can call me William."

"William. Cool :)."

"What's your name then?" Sherlock asked.

"Secret :P ."

Hmpf. Who's Mr.Mystery again?"

"Hehe :P. So how was your day?" TheSmellOfTea asked.

"Strange." Sherlock answered.

"I'm listening "

"Someone said I look like a druggie."

"Oh. Do you?"

"Well I hope not."

"Tell me how you look like, and I'll decide." SmellOfTea wrote.

"You first. You got my name, so it's only fair this way."

"You're right. So, I'm blonde. With blue eyes. "

"What kind of blue and blonde? Like, really light blond, or dark blond?"

"Sand blonde, I guess. Why?"

"I want to have an accurate image of you" he replied.

"Sand-blonde, and dark blue eyes. So what about you?"

"I have brown hair. And blue eyes. Light blue. Like turquoise I guess." Sherlock wrote.

"That sounds special."

"It's really not."

"Well, it's rare."

"No. 17% of the population has it."

"Did you google this up?"

"Years ago."

"Yeaahhh."

"It's true." Sherlock said." I have a good memory."

"So you're smart, you have a good memory, and you look nice? That's not fair.".

"I don't look nice. You don't know that."

"I imagine you appearence nice."

"Don't get your hopes up."

"You live in the UK?"

"Yes. Near London"

"Cool. Me too. Look I have to do some homework, but we talk later,alright?"

"Okay.."

"Bye then :) "

"Bye.".

Sherlock closed the laptop and spent the night looking through wikihow pages on online-dating.


	9. Waiting for you

-1 month later-

 **-J-**

John looked up.

"What are you listening to?"

Sherlock looked up at him, then turned away, looking shy.

"It's lofi. This one is called Waiting for you." He said

"Lofi?" John answered.

"Uhum. It's like jazz and hip hop, but mixed."

"This is kind of nice."

Sherlock nodded, still not looking at John. His hair curled up so unrealisticly wild, John wondered how could that even be possible. He couldn't help it, but he had to realise how jealous he was at Sherlock. He had a family, all the money, the brain and the look.

It was already around midnight, and Sherlock was sitting on the floor, in a white shirt and in black pants. He was reading something, and had his phone next to him, playing youtube mixes.

John stayed up late to learn, but when he heard the song, he actually really really liked it.

Without saying a word John sat down next to Sherlock and looked at the Youtube video.

"Do you always listen to Lofi?"

Sherlock nodded, but did not move away.

"I prefer rock. Do you know Artic Monkeys?"

"I know all of their lyrics." He said while nodding.

"Which is your favourite?" John wished Sherlock would look at him. He was kind of annoyed, and felt like he was not invited to talk. But damn, they've been roommates for 6 months now. There's no way they can just keep their silence.

"505." Sherlock answered.

"I don't know that." John answered.

Then he heard Sherlock say something so quietly, he wasn't even sure he was meant to hear it.

"You want to listen to it with me?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh. Sure."

Sherlock kept looking at his phone, but never to John.

To think about it they never really talked before. They argued. A lot. But never really talked.

He kept talking to ThatViolin all this time, and since then, he felt so much more open minded. He became interested in other things, and started to loose interest in his studies. He just wanted a change. Maybe that's why his sitting here, with his dorm-mate, who's so utterly strange, it almost makes him feel... Unique.

 **-S-**

His hand was shaking. Why is it shaking?

His body is sick. It never acted like this before. It all started with that site. With TheSmellOfTea. Since talking to him he wanted more and more. He wanted to be loved.

"There is nothing but the work Sherlock, nothing but the work. Your mind is too brilliant to think about anything else, son." His father always said.

He's sick.

"Sherlock can't love anyone. His just a machine." Mycroft told the others so they would leave him alone. Sherlock was alone in his whole life, he just got used to it. Anyone who ever approched him anyway, got scared away by his brain, and by his powerfull family. He had to think about the work, nothing but the work. He had to read about politics, and history, learn languages, keep his back straight, and looking forward.

So why is his hands are shaking?

It's just John. John is annoying. John has blue eyes. The kind of blue TheSmellOfTea would have. TheSmellOfTea makes him feel happy. Makes him feel different.

It makes you sick.

I'm happy.

I'm sick.

I'm dying.

 **-J-**

Sherlock was searching up the song on Youtube.

He wished he would look up.

He never did.

"Here" Sherlock said and clicked on a song on youtube.

"I'm going back to 505

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

In my imagination you're waiting, lying on your side

With your hands between your thighs"

John concentrated at the lyrics as much as he could, but he kept looking at Sherlock. The boy closed his eyes, and his lips were moving silently to the lyrics.

"Stop and wait a sec

Oh, when you look at me like that, my darling

What did you expect?

I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

Or I did last time I checked"

 **-S-**

Sherlock felt so sad listening to this song. It meant everything for him. He first listened to this song when he was 14; behind closed doors, in the darkness. He wanted to keep out the screams so badly, he put up the volume to the highest setting. Back then the song saved everything. It was special. It meant so much to him.

After the song finished they sat in silence.

"What do you think?" Sherlock asked finally.

"I think it was really cool. It sounds.. different. And mystical. I liked it." John said.

Sherlock nodded and stood up.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

Sherlock raised his shoulder and simply said : "Smoking."

-J-

When Sherlock went out John looked up the song on youtube, and re-read the lyrics. Then he downloaded the song. He would never tell his dorm mate how fucking cool this song was.

1 hour later, he almost knew the lyrics by head.

 **-S-**

Sherlock loved going out at night. He would just walk aimlessly; above him the moon shining, and the wind gently blowing.

He appriciated the beauty of life, and he hated everything that would ruin it.

He sat down on a nearby bench, and lit his cigarette.

He was going against the rules; he should only focus on his studies, but all he wanted was flip a table and yell "Fuck off! Leave me alone!"

He wanted freedom, he wanted his life. He loved chemistry as a child, but it was hobby, like reading, and playing video games, but that's it.

His father always told him how amazing his mind is, but he felt really stupid right now.

He wasn't sure where he was going. All he knew that he's about to change.

This last month, talking to this mystery boy online, actually talking and not just pretending; that's what he really needed. He felt hopeful, SmellOfTea made him hopeful. For a better future. For a future where he wasn't some kind of "ungrateful spoiled brat" or an "annoying freak".

But something else.

Or how SmellOfTea always said: Unique.


	10. Could you be the one?

"So what are you thinking about?"

"I think about everything."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's no point. You wouldn't understand. Nobody would."

"Give me a chance?"

"Maybe later..."

"What about you talk it out in person?" John asked.

"What?"

"You really want to meet me?" ThatViolin answered.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"No. Why would you? For pity? I don't want pity."

"C'monnn, stop this. I like you. You're fun and really smart. I just want to meet you."

"You might not like me in person."

"Well, at least I will know what to think about you."

"I guess..."

"Don't YOU want to meet me?"

"... To be honest... I don't know. I don't want to ruin everything."

"Look. Whatever happens. We keep talking, okay? I promise."

"Okay."

"Tomorrow afternoon? Around 5?" John asked.

"Sure"

-J-

John couldn't wait. As soon as he closed the laptop, he started to think about tomorrow, his mind racing. What should he wear? A suit? Or like his everyday brown jumper? He will definetly shave. Does this count as a date? No.. They've met on a dating site, but it doesn't have to be a date. It doesn't really matter anyway. He's finally going to see him. They've been talking for a month now, but it felt like eternity. He really liked William. He was not like these rich white kids; he was so much more, so unspeakably unreal. He sounded like the smartest person he ever knew, but still, he was not that self assured about it.

He will wake up in the morning, just to be sure. He want to look perfect. Though it's not a date. He's not really gay.

-S-

Sherlock was so nervous he thought his heart may give out. He closed the laptop and stared ahead. He's going to meet him. Oh God, he's finally going to see him.

He doesn't even know his name. He doesn't even know what he looks like, what does he likes, or what does he acts like.

This is so stupid. So unrealistic. So not allowed.

They would call him sentimental; stupid; or something worse. He is though. He is sensitive and an idiot, and so so lost.

SmellOfTea is best thing that happened to him. He was the person who cared about him; who asked how he was, what did he learned in school, had he have fun. He was the only one who made him feel... Happy?

He has to see him. He has to know him.

-J-

John couldn't sleep .

He never felt more alive.

-S-

Sherlock smoked all night.

Never tried to sleep.

-J-

John get up early; earlier than the sun, earlier than the world.

He had his breakfast, cereal with milk, he took a shower, shaved, brushed his teeth, but he still had like a whole day before the meeting. Sherlock was leaning against the window looking at him.

"Up early?" John asked.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

"Could be the weather."

"Could be."

John watched some Youtubenvideos and tried to read Murakami, but he couldn't concentrate.

-S-

Nervousness made him feel nauseous, almost like he had two hearts frantically beating in his chest, instead of one.

All the smoke in the world wouldn't help him calm down, none of the pretending would make him feel better.

He actually wanted to hide for forever and just die.

But SmellOfTea deserved so much better than that. He can't just disspear.

Man up, Sherlock, he thought. He's going to go there, and he's going to feel fantastic.

He Googled up what to wear, and how to deal with curly hair. By the end of it he just wanted to cut it all off.

-J-

John stood in front of the mirror. He brushed his hair to the right. Then he brushed it to the left.

He sighed.

He looked into his own eyes, at his own face. He was too ugly, too fat, too unperfect.

No.

He can't think of any of that.

He decided to leave his hair as it is.

He did some faces infront of the mirror just so his face would freshen up. He hoped his dorm mate wasn't looking.

-S-

John looked stupid, but at the same time, funny. It they were friends, he would say something funny to him.

But they were not friends. They could never be.

-J-

He walked in circles. 3 more hours to go.

-S-

Sherlock stood out of the bath and looked in the mirror. He shaked his head and had the mirror all wet because of his freshly washed hair. He wiped it with his hand.

He stared at his pale skin, his blue eyes. He looked alright. Alrighty-dead. He thought about brushing his hair, but he really never brushes it, so fuck it. It's not like it would do any good anyway.

He got into his white shirt and his black jeans. That would do it. And his coat.

When he went out of the bathroom, John already left. Probably to a date or something.

He had half an hour to go. He calculated that he could be 5 minutes late, so he wouldn't look desperate.

-J-

Why the hell did he come here this early?

They're supposed to meet in front of a cafe nearby.

But now his butt is going to freeze to death, his nose going to get all red, and he will look terrible.

Well planned John.

-S-

Sherlock got ready to leave. His going to see TheSmellOfTea. And it's all going to be alright. All good.

-J-

It's about time. He should be here anytime now.


	11. I need him

-J-

When Sherlock showed up, John didn't know what to think. It must've been an inconvenience. Right? He kept walking toward John, looking down, his hair all blown away by the wind, a scarf covering his neck.

He stood next to John, but said nothing. John look around.

"Uhm? Hello?"

Sherlock said nothing but stared ahead. They stood under a balcony, so the rain wouldn't catch them.

"I'm waiting for someone." John said.

"Yeah. Me too."

"Oh."

Now it was John's turn to look down. Does that mean...? No..

-S-

When Sherlock saw John standing under the balcony, in front of the cafe; he knew instantly.

It was stupid. He should've know.

When he stood next to John, he took a quick look at him. He looked confused, his ocean-blue eyes looking for answers. He wore his black jacket and his stupid brown jumper that he hated. He looked so unnatural, but to be honest, so did he.

They stood there for a while, and Sherlock felt his bum freeze to death. He wanted to say something. He wanted to leave, he wanted to yell at John.

But he stayed anyway.

"So.." John finally said.

"Yeah.." Sherlock replied. John looked up, and their eyes met.

-J-

Turquoise.

What kind of color is that anyway? It's looking green, but when you look again, it's more like blue. It's like those crystals they show you in elementary, and then warn you not to touch them.

It's so rare, he never saw anyone with those eyes, ever. No one, but Sherlock. He never really payed attention to his eyes. He saw him almost everyday, but did not notice the eyes. He registered them blue, and that's it. Now those eyes were looking at him, shining, demanding something, but John did not know what.

-S-

He saw something in those eyes that he never saw before. There was no real explonation. But it was like seeing John for the first time.

"You're ThatViolin." He said.

"I am." He replied.

"And you're my dorm mate."

"Obviously"

A man ran past them, trying to cover himself from the rain.

"I'm freezing." Sherlock said to himself out loud.

"You want to.. Get into the cafe shop?" John asked. He nodded.

A few minutes later they were sitting at a table, with a mug in their hands. Sherlock ordered expresso, while John got a Latte.

They hang their coat up, and Sherlock felt the warmness returning to his body. John stared into his mug.

"What do you think about?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm not sure."

-J-

Sherlock sat in front of him, his long sleeves rolled up, his hair dump. A quiet song was playing from the background. There was only 5 people in the store, including them.

"What do you think about?"

John thought about all of their conversations. He literally told him almost everything. He told him stupid stuff, like how he always dressed up as Superman in elementary. He told him he had a girlfriend once, and they pretended to be married for week, until she wouldn't gave John a Yo-gi-oh card, so they broke up. He told him how he liked the smell of mint, and the taste of lemon. He told him how lost he was nowdays, and how lonely he felt sometimes.

"I'm not sure." Was all he could manage.

"You can just... Leave, if you want." Sherlock said.

"Do you want me to?"

"No."

John nodded. He felt awkward, and ashamed. Sherlock knew so much about him, he almost felt naked.

"Do you feel... Dissapointed?" Sherlock asked.

John was not dissapointed. He was shocked. He felt mortified. He came here, expecting to meet someone, a random boy, who he had talked to almost everyday this month. Instead his dorm mate showed up, who he barely spoke to.

John stood up.

"I have to go."

He had a hard time breathing, feeling like his heart about to explode. He couldn't look at Sherlock; he couldn't talk to him. Not now.

He grabbed his coat, and without looking back, he left.

-S-

Sherlock stared at the empty table in front of him. John stormed out, he looked disgusted. He couldn't blame him.

He stared at his expresso, vision blurred.

His heart was aching, his head hurt. Sentimental, eh?

He grabbed the mug and throw it with a big toss, which resulted a load clutter, and broken pieces. Everyone stared at him, he could feel it. They looked disgusted. Sherlock took his coat, trying to keep his dignity in piece, then left, shutting the door behind.

-J-

John went home, and walked in circles. What should he do? It's crazy. Unbelievable.

What was he doing on that Site anyway? He messed up. God, he messed up so well.

He washed his face in the bathroom, and ran his wet fingers through his hair, and kept the water flow. He hated Sherlock for taking away ThatViolin from him. For taking something good from him. He knew it was not his fault, but he still felt that way. He felt so happy this last month. He felt like he had a friend. This school? No one ever talks to him, not since Mike moved to the US. He said this Uni is a cancer, and that he want some real education. He didn't care about leaving John behind. Nobody ever does.

When he looked into the mirror again, he looked different. His eyes were red, looking blankly.

His first freaking thought was to write to ThatViolin. To tell him what happened. Isn't that crazy? He laughed. He laughed so bad, tears rolled down his face.

-S-

Sherlock sat on a bench, smoking cigarette. It was raining badly, but he couldn't care less. He was soaking wet, probably freezing too. He liked smoking when it rained. It was almost the best time to smoke, because it made you feel warm. Except that he felt no warmness now. He felt nothing.

People ran past him, with umbrellas in their hands, some of them even stared at him curiously. He ignored them all. He looked up the sky, and blow the smoke out.

He thought about what happened, and how fucked up it was. But he can only blame himself for not seeing it. He's sick. He's been sick since talking to John online.

He couldn't decide if tears rolled down his face or rain. Maybe both, he couldn't tell. He barely cried. "Men don't cry." He was taught.

He shouldn't have agreed to the meeting. Everything would be fine now then. He lost the one person who understood him, the one person who cared.

He knew now. It was only the rain. He had no tears left anyway.

-J-

John layed in bed, all curled up, listening to music. He was frozen to his bones, and couldn't seem to warm up. He closed his eyes, and found it extremely easy to fall asleep. He was so tired mentally, and his head hurt like Hell.

When he woke up 3 in the morning, Sherlock was still not home.


	12. Meet me in Mexico

-S-

When Sherlock got home John was sleeping. His breathing was slow, evenly. He wore the clothes he had on the meeting, except his hair was messier.

Sherlock tried to move slowly, so he wouldn't wake John up, but he had to step on a stupid empty water bottle, he had left there last night.

John made a funny sound. Sherlock stood with his back facing John, so John wouldn't see how he closed his eyes, just as much as his fist.

"Sherlock?" John asked.

He turned.

John was sitting on the side of the bed, his blue eyes gazing up on him with confusion.

"Yeah. Sorry for waking you up." He answered looking down.

John nodded.

Sherlock wanted to tell him how fucked up this was. He also wanted to tell him how much he liked talking to him, and how freaking much he's going to miss it. He wanted to apologize for not being someone else.

Instead he turned again, and sat on his bed, then put up his headphone, hoping John would leave him be. He had no music going on, and pretended to watch stuff on his phone. He felt John's gaze on him.

After a while John lay back on the bed again. He stared at the wall above him, his hands crossing his chest.

So this is how it's going to be, Sherlock thought. Ignoring eachother. That's fucking worse. That hurts better. He hoped John would want to talk to him, but it looks like he won't.

He felt himself dying in silence. His mind was racing against time, what should've he done, how to fix it, how to undo it, maybe a time machine, yeah, he could built a time machine, estimated 8 years would be enough. Enough steel, some programming, an engine, all possible. Suddenly he noticed how John got up and was walking toward him. He kneeled down so his face would match Sherlock's.

He grabbed Sherlock's headphone, and slowly pulled it down from his head. Sherlock stared at him, in his deep blue eyes, confused.

"I want to talk to you about what happened." John said.

Sherlock gulped.

" This..? This is fucked up. But guess what" he continued " I really liked talking to you. I never would've realised it was you; because you never talk to me in real life. But on the internet? You were fucking awesome. It was fun talking to you. Maybe you hate me now, I don't know. I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed our time on the internet. That's all."

John said, and put the headphone down on Sherlock's bed, and got up.

"Wait. " Sherlock said. "I... I liked it too."

God, he's so bad with words. It's like his a freaking dictionary, but can't put a sentence together. He wanted to tell him everything and even more, but he simply couldn't.

"I..Uh.. You want to like.. listen to songs with me?" Sherlock finally asked.

John looked hesitant, but nodded.

This is his chance. His not good with words, so his going to tell everything with a song. He's going to play a song, and John will understand him for sure.

In an instant he knew.

His heart was beating like mad, and his hands were shaking. He grabbed his phone, and opened up youtube, while John sat next to him.

He clicked play and turned the phone upside down, so John wouldn't see the title.

-J-

"I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

I've been searching for a trail to follow, again

Take me back to the night we met"

Sherlock closed his eyes while listening, so John couldn't help but stare. Stare at his pale skin, stare at his curls, his lips, and his shoulders.

"And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

Actually, this is how he imagined ThatViolin. As a lost soul, perfect but full of flaws.

"I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met"

This moment? It was something different. Like they were out of this universe, just the two of them, just him, staring up at Sherlock. If it was a painting they would call it a masterpiece. It was a song they would play it on repeat. This moment? It was theirs.

-S-

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met."

When he opened his eyes, and turned to see John, he meet with his blue eyes. His eyes were sparkling, literally, glowing. He never saw anything like it. It was like a whole universe was behind it, a universe with a perfectly blue sky.

"When you had not touched me yet

Oh, take me back to the night we met"

He wasn't exactly sure when it happened. Or even when it started. All he knew for sure was that right here and now, he was falling hard and he could only pray that John was feeling the same way as he did.

His eyes are so intense Sherlock wanted to look away . . . or never look away, he couldn't decide.

-J-

"I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met"

Eye contact is way more intimate than words will ever be.

They needed no words to be said. They knew. Or at least he knew.

He was falling for Sherlock. It was the first time in his life that he actually felt this way. He had so many girlfriends before, but he never felt like this before. This was it.

As the song ended, they sat there in quiet.

John hated to break it.

"That was.. a pretty cool song."

"Uhum. I sometimes listen to it in the middle of the night.. Just thinking..." Sherlock said.

"About what?"

"Everything, I guess. I just keep thinking"

"And what do you think about now?"

"Hmm. About you, I guess."

"I think about you, too."

Sherlock smiled a little bit.

"I think about how I want to know you better. The real you. " John continued. " I want to talk to you, and show you my favourite songs, I want to watch my favourite movies with you, and I want you to read my favourite books."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know what you're thinking about."

"But you might not like it."

"It doesn't matter. That's the whole point. To get to know you. "

Sherlock nodded.

"Oh. Why did you choose the name ThatViolin?" John asked.

Sherlock blushed.

"I play the violin. I was never meant to play it. My father, he.. he wanted me to play the piano. But I never really liked it. So I asked my teacher in school to teach me. I'm pretty good at it. When I get my own flat, I'm going to buy a Stradivarius. It's like, the best. But my father would never buy it for me. So I'm going to get it later."

John looked amazed.

"You have to promise me you're going to play me something when you get your Stradivarius." John said.

"Yeah, okay. I'm promise." Sherlock answered.

"Okay. Now I'm going to show you a song.' John said.

At 6 in the morning, when John's alarm rang, they were still up, listening to music, and talking. Sherlock realised that John had a terrible taste in music, and John realised that Sherlock hated pop songs.


	13. I can't stand it

Sherlock had a hard time concentrating on Chemistry today. He almost spilled one extra drop of water into his solution. Luckily, he realised in time.

He drank like 5 cappuccino already, but he was still sleepy af, and all he could wait for was to go home and sleep. But it was still early in the morning, and he had like 5 more hours to go, so he sighed, and continued his work.

Sometimes, on breaks, he would see John on the hallway in his uniform. He was usually alone, with a book in his hand. He's been reading Murakami lately, but he's been stuck on this one for a while now.

Sometimes he thought about going there to talk to him, but decided not to. It was complicated.

He started to get bored of chemistry. Everything they do in class? He already did them before. There was nothing new to learn at this point, and he wanted a change, he wanted to do something different.

Some kids were whispering about him. He ignored them.

When Sherlock got home he felt so relieved. He throw his bag on the floor, and jumped in bed. John was not back yet.

To be honest, his part of the room looked terrible. His books were on the floor, just as much as clothes, and junk. His bed was never made, and he had an ugly spill on his desk. The bathroom door was still blackened because if the explosion.

John's part was different though. It was clean and nice, and his part always smelled like vanillia. How does he even do that?

He got rid of his trouser and shirt, and remained only in his boxer and and a grey loose t shirt. He decided to watch some videos online

-J-

John was dying. Literally. He had a hard time keeping his eyes open. He couldn't wait to finally go home and sleep.

When he opened the door, he packed his stuff on his bed, and took a quick glance at Sherlock. He was sitting at his desk.

A few minutes later they were drinking coffe, talking about the university, when they heard sirens. They got louder and louder and seemed to be increasing in number. Lots of people ran past their dorm, some of them shouting. John opened the window facing the street, then looked down.

"Wait here" he said then disappeared, after which Sherlock heard feet pounding down stairs.

Sherlock remainded sitting there, drinking his coffee alone, thinking about chlorine trifluoride.

A few minutes later John came back, and urged Sherlock to go somewhere with him. He followed John down a dorm hallway, then climbed a steep narrow stairway to a balcony, with wooden deck. It was higher than the surrounding rooftops and gave a good view of the neighborhood.

Huge clouds of black smoke shot up from a place three or four houses away, and flowed with a breeze towards the high street. A burning smell filled the air.

"It's Peter's place," said John, leaning over the railing. "They used to make traditional door fittings and stuff. They went out of business some time ago, though."

Sherlock leaned over the railing with him, and strained to see what was going on. A three-storey building blocked their view of the fire, but there seemed to be three or four fire engines over there working on the blaze. No more than two of them could squeeze into the narrow lane where the house was burning, the rest standing by on the high street. The usual crowd of gawkers filled the area.

"Hey, maybe you should gather the valuables together and get ready to evacuate this place." John said to Sherlock "The wind's blowing the other way now, but it could change any time, and you've got a petrol station right there."

"What valuables?" Sherlock laughed.

"Well, you must have something you'd want to save - bankbooks, seals, legal papers, laptop, stuff like that. Emergency cash."

"Forget it. I'm not running away."

"Even if this place burns?" John asked.

"You heard me. I don't mind dying."

John looked into his eyes, and he looked straight at John's. John couldn't tell if he was serious or joking. They stayed like that for a while, and soon John stopped worrying.

"OK," John said." I get it. I'll stay with you. "

"You'll die with me?" Sherlock asked with shining eyes

"No way," John said" I'll run if it gets dangerous. If you want to die, you can do it alone."

"Cold-hearted bastard!"

"Oh well.." John laughed. " Anyway, let's stay here and watch for a while. We can listen to songs. And if something bad happens, we can think about it then."

"Listen to songs?"

John brought two floor pillows, six cans of beer and his phone from downstairs. They drank and watched the black smoke rising. They listened to a lot of songs, on maximum volume. John asked him if Sherlock didn't think this would anger others.

Drinking beer and singing while you watched a local fire from the balcony didn't seem like the most admirable behaviour John could think of.

"Forget it," Sherlock answered." Let's not worry about what others think."

Sherlock worked on his beer, listened to the song, and kept an eye on the fire. It flared up and died down several times. People were yelling and giving orders. A newspaper helicopter clattered overhead, took photographs, and flew away. John worried that they might be on the picture. A policeman yelled through a loudspeaker for bystanders to get back. Glass shattered everywhere. Before long the wind began shifting unpredictably, amd white ash flakes fell out of the air around them, but Sherlock went on sipping, and singing.

"You know.. When my father left us to work abroad..." Sherlock said suddenly.

"Uhum?"

"I didn't feel a least bit sad."

"Oh. I'm sure you have your reasons." John said.

"My reasons. Hmm. Things were pretty complicated in that house. I didn't feel anything. Not sad, not lonely. And to tell the truth, I never shed a single tear. I cried all night when my dog died, though, when I was little."

So much smoke, John wondered. He couldn't see flames, and the burning area didn't seem to be spreading. There was just this column of smoke winding up into the sky. What could have kept burning so long?

He was pretty sure, that Sherlock drank too much.

Sherlock sipped again. John stared at the fire.

"I was still in primary school at the time, but I made up my mind once and for all " John said suddenly."I was going to find someone who would love me unconditionally 365 days a year."

"Did your search pay off?" Sherlock asked.

"That's the hard part" said John. He watched the rising smoke for a while, thinking. " I guess I've been waiting so long I'm looking for perfection. That makes it though."

"Waiting for the perfect love?"

"No, I even know better than that. Well, not like anyone can understand me though." John gave a little shake again Sherlock's shoulder. "For a certain kind of person, love begins from something tiny or silly. From something like that, or it doesn't begin at all."

"I've never met a boy who thinks like you."

"A lot of people tell me that." John said." But when I speak out honestly, everybody thinks I'm kidding or play-acting."

"You're weird."

"Me? You want to let yourself die in a fire ."

"Hey, no, that's different. It's just a matter of curiosity."

"What? Dying in a fire?"

"No. I just wanted to see how you would react." Sherlock said." But I'm not afraid of dying. Really. Like here, I'd just be overcome with smoke and loose consciousness and die before I knew it. That doesn't frighten me at all, compered to seeing your relatives disappear from my life. All that's left is pain and suffering."

Sherlock put a marlboro between his lips and lit it.

"That's the kind of death that frightens me. The shadow of death slowly, slowly eats away at the region of life, and before you know it everything is dark and you can't see, and the people around you think of you as more dead than alive. I hate that. I can't stand it."

Another half hour and the fire was out. They had apparently kept it from spreading and prevented any injuries. All but one of the fire engines returned to base,and the crowd dispersed, buzzing with conversation. One police car remained to direct the traffic, it's blue light spinning.

Sherlock looked drained of energy. Limp, he stared at the sky and barely spoke.

"Tired?" John asked.

"Not really " he said. "I just sort of let myself go limp and spaced out. First time in a long time."

He looked into John's eyes, and John into his. John put his arm around Sherlock and kissed him. The slightest twing went through his shoulders, then he relaxed, and closed his eyes.

It was a soft, gentle kiss, one not meant to lead beyond itself .

John would probably not have kissed Sherlock that day if they haven't spent the day drinking beer and watching a fire, and he no doubt felt the same. After a long time of watching the glittering rooftops and the smoke and the red dragonflies and other things, they had felt something warm and close, and they both probably wanted, half-consciously,to preserve that mood in sone form. It was that kind of kiss.


	14. Love the way you lie

-J-

The next morning, John woke up early for no reason at all. Sherlock was still sleeping in the bed.

When he got ready, he went down to a all-night café nearby, and sat with a book and a cup of coffee. Before long, the place became crowded with people who, like himself, were waiting for the day to start. A waiter came at John, asking apologetically if he would mind sharing his table. He said it would be alright. It didn't matter who sat across from him : he was just reading a book.

His companions at the table turned out to be two girls. His ex, Mary, and his bestie, 'whatever-her-name-is'. They seemed relived to sit with John.

They ordered café au lait and cake, which they havent really touched. Mary looked angry.

Later Mary went to the bathroom, at which point her companion spoke to John.

"So do you know any bars in the neighborhood that would still be serving drinks?"

Taken off guard, John set the book aside and asked, "After five in the morning?"

"Yes.."

"If you ask me, at 5.20 in the morning, most people are on their way home to get sober and go to bed."

"Yeah, I realise that." She said a bit embarrassed." But Mary says she has to have a drink. It's kind of important."

"There's probably nothing much you can do but go home and have a drink."

"But i have to catch a a train at 7.30."

"So find a vending machine and a nice place to sit. It's about all you can do."

"I know this is asking a lot, but could you come with us? Two girls alone really can't do something like that."

John had a number of unusual experiences in London, but he had never been before invited to have a drink with two girls, one his ex, at 5.20 in the morning. Refusing would have been more trouble than it was worth, and time was no problem, so he bought an armload of drink and snacks from a nearby machine, and the three of them went to an empty car park by the West exit of the station to hold an impromptu drinking party.

The girls told him they become friends at university. Mary had a boyfriend she had been seeing for 4 months, but had recently discovered he was sleeping with another girl and she had taken it hard. The irony.

"It's too bad what you're going through.," John said, but he couldn't care less. He hated Mary. " But how did you find out your boyfriend was sleeping with someone else?"

Taking little sips of vodka, Mary tore at some weeds underfoot. " I didn't have to work anything out. I opened his door, and there he was, doing it."

"When was that?"

"The night before last."

"No way. The door was unlocked?"

"Right."

"I wonder why he didn't lock it."

"How the hell should I know?"

"Yeah, how's she supposed to feel?" Said the small girl, who seemed truly concerned." What a shock it must've been for her. Don't you think that's terrible?"

"I really can't say. You ought to have a good talk with him. Then it's a question whether you forgive him or not."

"Nobody knows how I feel." Said Mary.

It was daylight now. The time for the train was approaching, so they gave what was left of their vodka to a homeless guy, bought platform tickets, and went to see the girl off. After the train pulled out of sight, Mary and John somehow ended up going to a nearby hotel.

Mary undressed first, and stood in front of John, who was sitting on a sofa, with a beer in his hand.

John felt blushing. He did not look at Mary.

"Look up John, look at me." Mary said.

John looked into her eyes.

"What's wrong? Don't you want me?"

"I.. Uh.. I'm seeing someone."

"Well, she doesn't have to know."

John smiled a little. Only if she knew it was not a girl.

"I will know though. Sorry."

Mary cried a little, but then dressed up, and left.

John took a shower, shaved, and sat drinking a bottle of juice from the fridge.

Maybe 30 minutes later his phone was ringing.

ThatViolin: Where are you?

SmellOfTea: Strange morning. I'll be home soon.

ThatViolin: Waiting :D

John smiled, put his phone away, then got ready to leave.

-S-

Sherlock was sitting at the window, smoking, when John got home.

John made them a cup of tea, and moved a chair near Sherlock, then sat.

John was talking about a stupid story he heard when he moved to this dorm. It was a about a "field well."

"It's really really deep." John said, choosing his words carefully. He would speak that way sometimes, slowing down to find the exact word he was looking for. "But no one knows where it is. The one thing I know for sure is that it's around here somewhere. It's true!"

"The it must be incredibly dangerous," Sherlock answered." A deep well, but nobody knows where it is. You could fall in and that'd be the end of you."

"The end. Aaaaah! Splat! Finished."

"Things like that must happen."

"They do, every once in a while. Maybe once in two or three years. Somebody disappears all of a sudden, and they just can't find him. So then people around here say, 'Oh, he fell onto the field well."

"Not a nice way to die." Sherlock said.

"No, it's a terrible way to die." Said John."The best thing would be to break your neck, but you'd probably just break your leg and then you couldn't do a thing. You'd yell at the top of your lungs, but nobody would hear you, and you couldn't expect anyone to find you. You die there in this place, little by little, all by yourself."

"Yuck. Somebody should find the thing and build a wall around it."

"But nobody can find it. So make sure you don't go off the path."

"Don't worry, I won't."

"Don't YOU worry." John said." You'll be okay. You could go running around here in the middle of the night and you'd never fall into the well. As long as I stick with you, I won't fall either."

"Never?"

"Never!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just know. I know these things. I'm always right. For example, when I'm really close to you like this, I'm not the least bit scared. Nothing dark or evil could ever attempt me"

"Well, that's the answer." Sherlock said." All you have to do is stay with me like this all the time."

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course."

They finished up their tea, and watched a movie together.


	15. Come back home

-J-

That winter John found a part-time job in a little record shop, which payed better, and was closer than the fast food restaurant he was working before. The work was easy - just watching the place three nights a week - and they let him buy records cheap.

Sherlock didn't go home for a while. John stayed in the city too, working in the record shop in winter break. He didn't have anything espacially fun to do or anyone he wanted to see. The dorm's dining hall was closed for the holiday, so on New Year's Eve they had rice cakes.

It snowed several times in January.

Near the end of the month John got into a stupid fight with one of the third-years on his floor and punched him. He hit his head against the concrete wall, but he wasn't badly injured, still John was called into the dorm Head's office and given a warning, after wich John grew increasingly uncomfortable living in the dormatory. His exam results were mediocre - mostly 'C's and' D's with a few 'B' s. Sherlock had all the grades he needed to begin the spring term of his second year.

-S-

Halfway through February Sherlock turned 20.

There was something strange about becoming 20.

Sherlock felt as if the only thing that made sense, was to keep going back and forth between 18 and 19. After 18 would come 19, and after 19, 18, of course.

But he turned 20.

Only the dead stay 17 forever.

-J-

It rained on his birthday. After lectures he bought a cake nearby and went back to the dorm.

'We ought to have a celebration.'. John said.

He managed to stand up 20 candles he had bought along, light them, closed the curtains, and turn out the light.

Sherlock open a bottle of wine. They drunk, had some cake, and enjoyed a simple dinner.

'I don' t know, it's stupid being 20.' Sherlock said.' It feels weird. Like somebody's pushing me from behind to move, but I'm not sure where I'm going.'

'I know. I felt strange too on my 20th birthday. Knowing that I can never say that I'm under 20.'.

They cleared the table and sat on the floor, listening to music and drinking the rest of the wine. Sherlock drank two glasses in the time it took John to finish one.

His lips one the glass, cheeks looking red and his hair running wild, John couldn't help but to adore him.

Sherlock was unusually talkative that night. He talked about his experiments, and shared his mad ideas and strange deductions. Each episode was a long one.

John was amazed by his memory, but as he sat, listening to it, it began to dawn on him that there was something wrong with the way he was telling these stories: something strange, warped even. Each tale had it's own internal logic, but the link from one to the next was odd.

Before you knew it, story A had turned into story B, which has been contained in A, and then came C from something in B, with no end in sight.

It eventually dawned on John what was wrong: Sherlock was taking great care as he spoke not to touch on certain things. One of those things was his family. And though he had certain subjects he was determined to avoid, he went on endlessly and in incredible detail about the most trivial, insane things.

Once the clock struck eleven, though, John began to feel nervous. Sherlock had been talking for hours. John worried about getting up early tomorrow, and studying. He saw his chance and cut in.

'Maybe we should go to sleep now.'

John's word did not seem to reach him. Or, if they did, he was unable to grasp their meaning. He clamped his mouth shut for a split second, then went on with his story. John gave up, and drank what was left of the second bottle of wine.

Sherlock did not go on for long, though. Before John knew it, he had stopped talking. The ragged end of the last word he spoke seemed to float in the air, where it had been torn off. He had not actually finished what he was saying. Something was gone now, and John was probably the one who had destroyed it.

Lips slightly parted, he turned his half-focused eyes on John's. He looked like some kind of machine that had been humming along until someone pulled the plug. His eyes appeared clouded, as if cover by some thin, translucent membrane.

"Sorry to interrupt." John said "but it's getting late, and..."

Sherlock looked so lost, and John was totally confused about what had happened.

"Hey... What's wrong?"

"It's just... I'm sorry I kept on talking that much. You probably have a lot of things to do, and I just wasted your time, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

John reached out and placed his hand on his tremling shoulder. Then, all but instinctively, John took him in his arms.

John was alerted by Sherlock's strange behavour, he could feel him shaking, almost like he was crying without tears.

So John waited.

Soon Sherlock's fingers began to move across John's back as if in search of something, some important thing that had always been there. Supporting his weight with my left arm, John used his right hand to caress his curly hair.

They slept in one bed that night.

Was it the right thing to do?

John couldn't tell.

He watched Sherlock fell asleep silently.


End file.
